I'm Everything I Am Because You Loved Me
by symphonyrichmond
Summary: When Symphony Richmond meets Sherlock Holmes, they begin a whirlwind romance which leaves her questioning his true motives. Sherlock HolmesxOC oneshot OOC Sherlock Holmes


Two months. It had only been two months since you had moved down to London from Glasgow with your best friend, (best friend's name). It felt like it had only been yesterday that you had waved goodbye to your friends who you had made during your time in Scotland and then jumped on the six hour train journey with (best friend's name). London was your home now. You knew it was time to return. That's right, you use to live here in London with your family but left for Scotland a good few years back…don't ask, it was your choice!

Anyway, during the last two months you had settled into the flat that you shared with (best friend's name), but you had also met a man named Patrick Hale. You had met him during one of your nights out with (best friend's name) at some nightclub, you could remember that night well, well some of it. You could recall (best friend's name) pointing him out from the table that you both had sat at, he had stood at the bar and would casually glance over at you two. It was (best friend's name) who insisted that you 'Get your arse over there and do your thing!'

So you did…

And here you are now, on a date at a lovely Italian restaurant named Angelo's, which you had been to before with (best friend's name) and loved it. This date was your fourth, yet you were still somewhat nervous though you didn't really know why.

"(y/name), are you okay?" said a voice sitting opposite you at the table and bringing you straight back into reality. You looked up from the lit candle that you had been staring at, Angelo, who you believed was your waiter, had put it there and had insisted that it made your date 'more romantic', and looked towards Patrick seeing slight concern in his hazel brow eyes.

You nodded your head. "Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry, I was miles away there…" you trailed off, mentally shaking yourself awake. He chuckled softly before taking a sip of wine from his glass that you both had ordered a few moments ago. "So, what are you thinking about ordering?" you asked glancing down at the menu in front of you and scanning over the choices.

He set his glass down before looking down at the menu. "Hmm, no idea, to be honest I haven't got a clue what most of the food on here is or even how to pronounce it! I was never really good at modern languages." he gave out a slight laugh. "Might just play it safe and go with Spaghetti Bolognese." You looked up from your menu to see that he was looking at you with a smile. "What are you thinking of choosing?" he asked still smiling.

"I think I might go with the Mia Casa Penne." you answered with a smirk and your best Italian accent.

"You know Italian?" He asked raising a brow which made you giggle.

"I wish! (best friend's name) and I have came here a few times before and so far that's my favourite."

Time seemed to fly by and after yet another brilliant meal at Angelo's and now it was time to leave. Though it took Patrick and you both about five minutes to reach anywhere near the door as you both insisted on paying the bill, you even suggested splitting the bill but Patrick was having none of it and so in the end he paid. He opened the door for you to go first and just as you were turning back around from saying thanks…

BAM!

You walked straight into someone.

That someone being a jumper loving, short-ish, blonde haired man with blue eyes and a surprised expression on his face.

"Oh my God, I'm so-" you began before stopping dead in your tracks, stunned by the person you had so foolishly walked literally head first into.

"(y/name)?" the blonde haired man cautiously said, raising a brow. You just gawked at him for a few more seconds before beginning to grin like a complete idiot.

"John!" you almost shouted, hugging him tightly which he returned with a chuckle before letting you go. "I didn't know you came back home from Afghanistan, how long have you been back?" You remember very well the day John had left home for the war in Afghanistan, the very thought that you would never see him again terrified you and crushed your heart every waking day, knowing that somewhere out there he would be getting shot at.

John cleared his throat. "I've only really been back a few months. I was going to call you, I swear! But I guess I got too caught up with a few things…" he trailed off, biting his bottom lip nervously. You knew very well that when he did this it meant that he either didn't want to talk about it or was hoping that you wouldn't ask, so you simply nodded.

"John, who is this?" said a deep voice from behind John which bounced John and you out of your little worlds and come crashing back to the real world. John nervously scratched the back of his neck before turning to face the tall man behind him.

"Oh, erm right. This is (y/name), my cousin." John smiled when he said your name. "(y/name), this is-"

"Sherlock Holmes." interrupted the tall man who had stood behind John was now stood before you, extending out his hand for you to shake, which you did. Sherlock was quite a bit taller than John, you guessed that he stood at roughly six foot tall, his hair was nothing but dark, messy curls, his cheekbones looked sharp enough that if anyone dared to slap him then they would most likely cut themselves and his eyes! By God! You were mentally arguing with yourself about which colour they were, at first you thought they were blue but on closer inspection you noticed they were grey-blue with hints of green and golden flecks in them. He was wearing one of the most expensive looking greyish navy trench coats that you had ever seen and a blue scarf, which you wondered why he was wearing it since it was summer and sure, it was a little chilly but there was no need for…

You mentally shook yourself. Again. Realising that you were staring at Sherlock probably much longer than necessary. "It's nice to meet you." you said slightly embarrassed, letting go of Sherlock's hand, which caused him to grin slightly.

"Erm, (y/name)?" Patrick spoke up from behind you sounding totally lost.

"Hmm? Oh, Patrick this is John. John, Patrick." you gestured to each of them when you said each of their names, they shook hands and said their 'hello's before Sherlock rolled his eyes and moved towards the door that lead to Angelo's now that Patrick and you were out of the way.

"Come along John, we have much to discuss." Sherlock said breaking John and Patrick from their brief conversation then turned to face you. "It was nice meeting you, (y/name)." he said before smirking and waltzing off through the door causing John to roll his eyes with a sigh.

"So, he's your date? Huh?" you said to John, giving him a sly wink and a smirk. John furrowed his brows and crossed his arms.

"He is not my date!" John exclaimed causing Patrick and you to jump and then burst into laughter. John just stood there and glared daggers at you both until you two had calmed down.  
"Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that Johnny boy." you sarcastically said, John just stood there and shook his head before chuckling to himself and then smiling at you both.

"Well, I should go catch up with Sherlock before he does something stupid." John rolled his eyes "I'll see you around (y/name)" he said with a smile before walking over to the door and stopping then turning to face Patrick. "It was good to meet you, Patrick."

"Yeah? It was nice to meet you too, John." Patrick said with a smile, John nodded goodbye before heading off into Angelo's to find Sherlock. Patrick turned to you and extended an arm. "Shall we?" he said. You nodded and linked arms with him and began walking home.

***Time skip - brought to you by Sherlock and his purple shirt***

Six months on and everything was going brilliantly. John and you spoke regularly wither it be out for a cup of coffee - or as he preferred, tea - or if Sherlock had dragged him off to a case then you would call John instead. But over time you had also gotten to know Sherlock…

Sherlock had told you that he worked as a Consulting Detective, you honestly had no idea what that meant until he had explained it to you and that he was the only one in the world as he had 'invented the job'. At first you didn't really think much of his job, yet before you could even ask him questions about it Sherlock decided he would show off by pretty much deducing your entire life story right there and then, stunning you into shock yet amazement in 221B in front of John who had just sat in his chair face palming. Yet even though you had learnt that Sherlock considered himself better and cleverer than anyone else in the room and would go out of his way to prove himself right, even throw in a good few embarrassing insults here and there, you had also gotten to know a somewhat softer side to the Consulting Detective. During some of your visits to 221B Baker Street, Sherlock would sometimes test you out of complete boredom (most likely because John was either out, busy or couldn't be arsed with a bored Sherlock) so he would give you some old cases and make you work them out before telling you wither you were correct or not, though you would know once you had finished your deduction just by either the smirk and look of pride on his face or the look of frustration. Either way, the fact that he would acknowledge your presence (unless he was in deep thought) and didn't treat you like you were a complete idiot (well, most of the time) made you feel that perhaps he enjoys your company, maybe not as much as you but still it's there.

During the six moths you had somewhat moved in with Patrick, seeing as (best friend's name) and her boyfriend had taken over the flat that you both shared. Though things between Patrick and you had become strained and quite distant, considering that you both barely spent any time together seeing as when he was free you would be over at 221B with John and Sherlock or out someplace else and then when you weren't with them then he would be out at work. Though there was that rare occasion here and there when you both would be free and would either go out for dinner or whatever you two could be bothered with, which was mostly just take out and watching a movie.

But today.

Today of all days.

It had happened.

The one thing you knew was bound to happen sooner or later.

Yet no matter how much you had prepared yourself for it…

You had no idea that it would have happened like this.

You stormed out of the flat that you shared with Patrick, grabbing your coat in the process. You didn't dare give him a chance to stop you and try to explain himself.

How dare he!

You honestly didn't care that it was raining and your coat didn't have a hood or that fact that you forgot your umbrella. You didn't care that you were becoming absolutely drenched from the rain, your (hair colour) hair now dripping wet. You didn't care that you didn't know where you were going. And you sure as hell didn't care what he had to say.

Then you began to run.

Not caring for the tears that were welding up in your eyes causing your vision to blur.

How could he do this to you?!

The man that you thought had understood you. Had cared for you. Meant so much to you.

The man who would so easily rip your heart right in two.

You wanted the pain to stop.

Then after running for God knows how long, you stopped dead in your tracks and closed your eyes.

You knew where you wanted to go.

You stopped outside the door that lead to the flat of 221B, unsure as to why you had chosen to come here. Sure, you could have just gone back to the flat that you shared with (best friend's name) but you felt like you couldn't, it didn't feel like your flat anymore, not ever since (best friend's name)'s boyfriend (who's name you had completely forgotten) had moved it, it felt more like their flat now. And there was absolutely no way in hell you were going back to Patrick's flat.

So 221B it was…

You knew after the first few visits that you didn't really need to knock on the door but even in the state you were in you still felt obligated to do so. There was a few moments pause before you heard a heavy sigh from the opposite side of the door.

"Come in, (y/name)." Sherlock's deep voice had shouted and very hesitantly you opened it and walked in, seeing the Consulting Detective stretched out on the couch wearing his usual suite attire with his hands clasped together in a praying like position under his chin, eyes closed.

The sound of your hitched breaths caused him to raise a brow before opening his eyes, widening them with concern. "What's wrong?" he asked shooting up from the couch and speeding over to you, placing both his hands on each of your shoulders, his blue-green eyes looking into your (eye colour) ones with what seemed like worry. You didn't know wither you could speak, the lump in your throat returning with a vengeance after you had tried to calm down before coming here, the tears threatening to spill out your eyes.

"I…He…" you tried to say but your voice just wouldn't let the sentence come out. Just wouldn't admit what had happened what seemed like only a mere few minutes ago, you looked away from Sherlock's eyes and down to the floor. A few tears escaping from your eyes. "I caught him cheating on me." you barely even whispered which made you wonder if Sherlock even understood a word of what you had said.

Though just when you were about to look up from the floor to see wither he had understood you, you felt him pull you in for a hug. And that's when you crumbled, burying your face into his shirt soaking it with tears. You could feel Sherlock mumble words from the vibration that ran through his chest yet you could barely make out what he was saying, you didn't care, you just didn't want him to let go.

Slowly but eventually you pulled away, looking up into his eyes before quickly looking at his soaked shirt then back down at the floor again. "Sorry." you muttered. Sherlock raised a brow at you before a small smile escaped onto his face before he placed a hand under your chin and gently lifted your face so you were once again looking into his eyes.

"There's no need to apologise, (y/name)." his deep calm voice said, still keeping one hand on your chin while the other hand drifted up to your face and gently wiping away a stay tear from your cheek with his thumb. You couldn't help but smile and hastily pull your eyes away from his when you felt your cheeks slightly burn as a slight blush spread across them, you knew he would notice. He was Sherlock bloody Holmes, of course he would notice!

But you couldn't help but think why? Why was he being so nice to you? Sure, you had arrived at his flat in a complete wreck and basically just bawled your eyes out in his arms, but you couldn't understand as to why. John had told you that Sherlock was a sociopath, meaning that he didn't care for what others felt, he only looks out for himself.

Sherlock had let go of your chin and was now staring at you with a raised brow. Once you had felt like your cheeks had calmed down a bit you looked back to Sherlock's eyes and thought:

Why do you even care?

"Because I do care."

You jumped, realising that you had thought a loud. He chuckled at your reaction and then his hand drifted up again, only to move a stray strand of your (hair colour) hair behind your ear. And that's when you realised…

"Where's John?" you asked. Honestly, you hadn't really realised that John wasn't here, your own cousin!

"He's out on another one of his aimless dates again." He rolled his eyes at the very thought making you giggle. He smiled before asking "Tea?"

"Yeah, please." you answered with a smile and just before you were about to head off to sit in John's chair Sherlock surprised you by kissing you on the forehead before waltzing off into the kitchen to make tea for you both, leaving you to stand there blushing and grinning like an idiot.


End file.
